The life of a reaper is a lonely, misunderstood one.

Their paths crossed that year he saw for himself the creation of a miscellaneously omitted person. At the scene of a rash, unexplainable hit-and-run, the patch of blood on an icy path wherein a mother and her unborn, unnamed child should have died.

The Goblin, dashing as always, stood at the spot with his hands stuffed in his pockets, but at the very least, he was taking responsibility for his meddling.

"Ya! You can't do this all the time."

"Well, I don't, do I, dear reaper?"

He scowls reflexively at the affectionate form of address as he turns.

"I have to go home and file a lot of paperwork for this."

"I know. That's why I stayed so you would have the ability to say under 'Reason for deviation' that it was 'Involvement of a goblin'."

Before the goblin can prattle on more, the grim reaper grumbles and disappears in a black afterimage.

And he had to file two reports, in that year alone his direct juniors, just ten of them found an extra seven deaths. An unnatural amount against the order of the world. So in that year, they witnessed two kinds of miracles. Lives saved and lives taken.

Dokkaebi doesn't know like they do, that the balance of life and death has to be kept. The Jeoseung Saja who keeps a watch over the district that the goblin inexplicably frequents holds his tongue and deals with the paperwork indirectly created by the soft-hearted God.

There's no free lunch, after all.

Was it supposed to be unfair? That goblin who carelessly used his powers here and there was to have it extracted back in some way or other.

It's not like the reaper community doesn't understand, everyone knows the story of the Goblin and of an eternity of suffering.

Even they too, do not desire to see the children die. But it happens – the innocent and the kind die more easily than most. It would have been an easier decision if the seven were evil people. But how could anyone have made a judgement on the pregnant mother as she lay bleeding out on the ice?

His juniors complain at their next gathering while his classmates only sympathise quietly.

The amount of paperwork they file for their extra deaths is meagre compared to his re-documenting of the MOP.

"Now though, sunbae, you have two MOPs, don't you?"

He nods while drinking his fruit juice.

Everyone winces. He tries for a smile.

"At least the child will get to grow up."

His juniors look properly chastised.

Before they begin eating, he excuses himself. It's a chicken restaurant, there's nothing for him to eat, anyway.

And someone else will then pick up the tab for his juice.

As he steps out of the store, the female reaper – the only one, comes after him.

"Sunbae!"

He looks back, before asking, "Yes?"

She hands him a plastic bag. "Sorry, we came to a chicken restaurant knowing you were vegetarian."

He waves her off. "It is okay, they make good juice here."

"Take the side dishes home at least. They also make good radish kimchi."

He smiles, hesitating a moment before patting her on the shoulder.

"I will eat well."

The junior reaper, admittedly pretty, is more importantly earnest.

He's not sure, but there's something familiar about her.

She disappears back into the store, and he makes a lazy circle around the neighbourhood before reaching his apartment.

It's about time to think about moving again.

He waits for the Goblin to show up, because his goblin is reliable that way.

"You were thinking of leaving again."

He smiles.

"And you will never know if I'm thinking for real, or if I just wanted to summon you."

The grim reaper follows this up with, "Dokkaebi. I'm actually going to move out this time. My lease is expiring this week. I just called you to tell you that in the meantime before they settle if I keep my jurisdiction, you can't save anyone else. Because my juniors won't know how to file the paperwork."

He takes a little pleasure in how the goblin gives him a baleful look.

"You could have just called me, you know."

"I don't have a phone."

"Then get one."

He waves the goblin off as he continues packing his things.

"It's an extra monthly cost. I don't earn that much, Dokkaebi. We are always saving up for the next lease, for our next meal, for something else we will have to buy, like the living humans. Paying for a phone when I have no one else to call is pointless."

He looks up at the abnormally quiet goblin.

"Ah. But what's the point of saying this. You don't understand anyway."

Of course, I should be studying. But there really isn't enough fanfiction for these two. So here you go, a series I want to continue.

Kayo